A Waif of the Plains

in their relations to each other, and after the departure of Flynn was tacitly ignored by both-was more Spanish than American. An early residence in Lower California,

on a single trivial act, Clarence's social status was settled forever at El Refugio Rancho by his picturesque diversion of Flynn's parting gift. The grateful peon to whom the boy had scornfully tossed the coin repeated the act, gesture, and spirit of the scene to his companion, and Don Juan's unknown and youthful relation was at once recognized as hijo de la familia, and undeniably a hidalgo born and bred. But in the more vivid imagination of feminine El Refugio the incident reached its highest poetic form. "It is true, Mother of God," said Chucha of the Mill; "it was Domingo who himself relates it as it were the Creed. When the American escort had arrived with the young gentleman, this escort, look you, being not of the same quality, he is departing again without a word of permission. Comes to him at this moment my little hidalgo. 'You have yourself forgotten to take from me your demission,' he said. This escort, thinking to make his peace with a mere muchacho, gives to him a gold piece of twenty pesos. The little hidalgo has taken it SO, and with the words, 'Ah! you would make of me your almoner to my cousin's people,' h

ost abstracted men, had hitherto always studiously ignored the future, in their daily intercourse. Yet this might have been either the habit of security or the caution of doubt. Whatever it was, it was some sudden disturbance of Don Juan's equa

pened? Have I don

fully, with a certain impatient forgetfulness of Clarence's presence, and as if following his own thought. "Just as you are becoming of service to me, and justifying your ridiculous position here-and all this d-d nonsense that's gone before-I

ous," repeated Clarence,

ow we'll ride over to San Jose and see the Father Secretary at the Jesuits' College about your ente

is cousin's interest and what he believed were the duties of his position, awoke to find that position "ridiculous." In an afternoon's gloomy ride through the lonely hills, and later in the sleepless solitude of his room at night, he concluded that his co

ntecedents in a way that made him dread a renewal of the old questioning about his progenitor. For the rest, he was a polished, cultivated man; yet, in the characteristic, material criticism of youth, I am afraid that Clarence chiefly identified him as a priest with large hands, whose soft palms seemed to be cushioned with kindness, and whose equally large feet, encased in extraordinary shapeless shoes of undyed leather, s

from cruel sneers to physical opposition. It was then found that this gentle and reserved youth had retained certain objectionable, rude, direct, rustic qualities of fist and foot, and that, violating all rules and disdaining the pomp and circumstance of school-boy warfare, of which he knew nothing, he simply thrashed a few of his equals out of han

throat like an animal, and locking his arm around his neck began to strangle him. Blind to the blows that rained upon him, he eventually bore his staggering enemy by sheer onset and surprise to the earth. Amidst the general alarm,

ace, and eyes that still seemed to see everything in the murky light of his

r own heart at this moment. But as to a good friend, Claro, a good friend," he continued, patting the boy's knee, "yo

doggedly. "I'll lick

and awful. Were you not afraid of-of-" he paused, and suddenly darting hi

shuddered, and

our real enemy. Good! Now, by the grace of God, m

hypocritically obsequious, after the fashion of the weaker. His studies, at all events, profited by this lack of distraction. Already his two years of desultory and omnivorous reading had given him a facile familiarity with many things, which left him utterly free of the timidity, awkwardness, or

he rules was conceded to him, and he was even encouraged to take some diversion. Of such was the privilege to visit the neighboring town of Santa Clara unrestricted and unattended. He had always been liberally furnished with pocket-money, for wh

no longer young and romantic! He was passing them with a careless glance, when a pair of deep violet eyes caught his own under the broad shade of a coquettishly beribboned hat, even as it had once looked at him from the depths of a calico sunbonnet. Susy! He started, and would have spoken; but with a quick little gesture of caution and a meaning glance at the two nuns who walked at the head and foot of the file, she indicated him to follow. He did so at a respectful distance, albeit wondering. A little further on Susy dropped her handkerchief, and was ob

ers, he believed that Father Sobriente would easily procure him an interview with this old play-fellow, of whom he had often spoken, and who was, with himself, the sole survivor of his tragical past. And trusted as he was by Sobriente, there was something in this clandestine though

y much, as it seemed to Clarence's fancy, as they had flown from the old emigrant wagon on the prairie, four years before. He glanced at the fluttering, fairy-like figure beside him. She had grown taller and more graceful; she was dressed in exquisite taste, with a minuteness of luxurious detail that bespoke the spoilt child; but there was the same prodigal outburst of rippling, g

y from school, Susy, are yo

d to explain, with a sudden assumption of older superiority, "mother's here at the hotel all this week, and I'm allowed to go home every night, like a day s

egan Cl

art out for half an hour yet, and they'll say I've just run ahead, and whe

d Clarence

There's a nice one near the hotel. I've got some mone

," he continued, clinging to his first idea with masculine persistence, and anxious to assure his companion of his power, of his position, "I'm in the college, and Father Sobriente, who knows

said Susy. "WHA

I'm

th a certain precision, "Why, they're VERY particular about young gentlemen! Why, Clarence, if they su

gers, that was walking with me, thought you were ever so old-and a distinguished Spaniard! And I," she said ab

h," said

st-but I've a prettier one with lace all down in fr

e presence of passers-by, assumed an air of severe propriety, dropped her hands by her side, and with an affect

idential whisper, "where they can't see us-and strawberry,

and over-conscious shepherds. There was an interval of slight awkwardness, which Susy endeavored to displace. "There has been," she remarked, wi

desperate, but as yet idealess and voiceless. At last, with an effort over his

laugh, "but we don

o used to yelp when Susy sang),

e devotion of her adopted parents, whom she now readily spoke of as "papa" and "mamma," with evidently no disturbing recollection of the dead. From which it appeared that the Peytons were very rich, and, in addition to their pos

ember Ji

t in San Francisco, who should be there WAITING on the table-yes, Clarence, a real waiter-but Jim Hooker! Papa

He could not bring himself now to add that revelation to the contempt of his smal

mysteriously, and indicating the shopman and his as

id the practi

Don't you see how

an, or that any one exhibited the slightest concern in him or his companion. But

h your father?" said Su

ce, smiling. "You know my father

t so." But seeing the boy's wondering eyes fixed on her with a tro

very of the letter addressed to Silsbee. But before he had concluded he was conscious that Susy was by no means interested in these details, nor in the least affected by the passing allusion to her dead father and his relation to Clarence's misadventures. With her rounded chin in her hand, she was slowly examining

nd at the convent," he said eagerly. "Father S

ma, especially mamma. And they mustn't know that we've met again-AFTER THESE YEARS!" It is impossible to

gain. You can speak to her about Suzette-that's my name now; I was rechristened Suzette Alexandra Peyton by mamma. And now, Clarence," dropping her voice and glancing shyly around the saloon

oor-they're coming now," walked with supercilious dignity past the preoccupied proprietor and waiters to the entrance. Here she said, with marked civility, "Good-afternoon, Mr. Brant," and tripped away towards the hotel. Clarence lin

ges in her character and disposition, for he was of that age when they added only a piquancy and fascination to her-as of one who, in spite of her weakness of nature, was still devoted to him! But he was painfully conscious that this meeting had revived in him all the fears, vague uneasiness, and sense of wrong that had haunted his first boyhood, and which he thought he had buried at El Refugi